Where the Cat Went
by archergwen
Summary: Companion (aka spoiler-iffic) fic to "A Bear and a Cat," taking place in the gap between chapters 7 and 8. Full of backstory, snark, and the author's first published piece of smut.


**A/N: Follows 'The Thalmor in Markarth' and chapter 14 of 'A Bear and a Cat.' This will provide spoilers for both if you are not familiar with my other pieces.**

Ondolemar was several miles from Markarth and visible again when he thought to put his hands in his pockets.

Admittedly, there were many pockets to choose from with the way the leather armor was cut. Fortunately for Ondolemar, he happened to choose the pocket with the important note. It was a simple slip of paper on which a well known hand had scrawled directions to a hut near to Markarth but over the mountains.

The legally dead Justiciar abruptly changed paths.

He found the hut easily and void of obstacles. He immediately set about making the space comfortable, lying out some skins on the floor that were fresh and soft as the bed was rather small. Sleep overcame him in the middle of the task, but it was simple to recommence after his long nap. It helped the hours pass as well, sleeping, since Ondolemar had no idea when she would come for him.

It was late in the day, the second after his recorded death, that she appeared in the doorway in nothing but her cloths for wearing under armor. He rose to met her.

"Siltuzma."

She was in his arms before he could blink, face pressed into the crook of his neck. "I had to pretend you were dead. I had to imagine you lying cold, surrounded by stone, laid out so we could stand vigil before burning you. And none of the Stormcloaks understood-"

"Surely they can understand grief."

"Grief for the enemy?"

Ondolemar gently nudged her face out to meet his so he could press a gentle, soft kiss to her lips. "I'm here. I'm alive. I am never going away."

"Do not say 'never.' Please don't say 'never.' You cannot guarantee that. You just cannot."

"But I am. Believe in us, my lover. Nothing, not even death, can get in-between a love Auri-El himself supports." Siltuzma raised an eyebrow. "You and I are both dead according to the Aldemeri Dominion. Yet here we are, healthy, alive, and in each other's arms. Is this not true, or am I dreaming?"

"Forgive me, my lover. It seems some of the Nordic sentiments are rubbing off on me."

Ondolemar kissed her again. "You are to me, and always will be, the perfect Altmeri maiden. Every other one has fallen from the path."

She giggled as he kissed her once more, then again, and again, each growing in length and intensity. He drew her back, away from the now closed door to the pile of furs. With another lingering kiss, he pulled her down to their knees on the makeshift nest. She involuntarily gasped as one of his hands sneaked up her torso to grasp her breast. She leaned into his touch, and he squeezed her mound while his other arm wrapped around her. Pulling her in, he murmured, "Feeling cold?"

She shivered, but pressed a kiss to his lips. As one of his hands deliberately massaged her chest, she met his gaze through lidded eyes. "It may be a different sensation."

She wrapped her arms around his neck, languidly pressing more kisses to any of his soft, golden skin that she could reach.

The hand of his that rested on her back slowly slid down and around, coming to rest in her lap. His fingers reached to brush against her center. She moved slightly away, but he reached forward to kiss her again and to deliberately press into her entrance through her breeches.

One of her hands slid down and press against his chest. "Mmm, no."

"No?"

"No. You're going to worship me. I want to be with you, know you are here. I do not want to be worshiped."

Ondolemar snaked his arms around her in order to gently lie her down on the furs. "But I love to worship you."

"And you are so good at it. But not tonight."

"As my lady commands." He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "I will just be with you and control myself. Let me get this armor off. Obviously cut like the Thieves' Guild, by the way."

His fingers started to work at the mass of buckles. In the slight darkness, it was rather difficult. Smiling slightly, she reached up to halt his hands. "Here, let me." With one swift movement, Siltuzma rolled the two of them, coming to rest on top, straddling him as she worked at the buckles. Triumphant, she threw the armor open.

Ondolemar swallowed. "You do like to do that."

"It feels like stripping you. I see you still wear buttoned shifts under your robes and armor."

"For you." Feeling hot, he swallowed again and met her eyes. With a thick voice, he asked, "Are you going to take the leather pants off, too?"

Siltuzma blinked, looking down at her man from the vantage point she suddenly appreciated. She wrapped her hands around his waist, transferring weight off her hips. "I think I rescind anything I previously said about plans for tonight." She pressed her hips down onto his in a slow, lazy circle.

He groaned, and with a sudden motion sat up, crossing his legs to create a lap for her. As his mouth crashed into hers, her arms were pushing the armor off his arms and throwing it to the side. While she started to unbutton his shift, he was frantically kissing her face and ears and neck, letting his hands roam over her back. He pressed small circles into her skin until she required his assistance to be rid of his shift.

That distraction on her part allowed him the opening to draw her shirt up and over her shoulders. It was carelessly tossed to the side.

"See," he breathed into her ear as his hands eagerly re-acquainted themselves with her breasts. "Perfect."

"Flattery will get you-"

He captured her mouth with a kiss. "Hush." A hand left her chest to wrap around her back, and his mouth dove down to kiss her collarbone. "You talk too much." He pressed a kiss between her mounds.

Her hands curled around his ears, interrupting the trail Ondolemar was leaving down her body as he had to shiver. "You like it when I talk."

Excited, he dug his fingers into her sides and returned to his task as her fingers wound through his hair, brushing over the corners of his ears every once in a while, relishing in each of his shivers. His hand wound down into the waistline of her breeches and started pulling them over her hips.

"No fair. You need to lose clothing, too."

"Hey, we're even. You forgot to wear some bra thing so I could tear it off you. Didn't you have time to prepare for this?"

"Not in the middle of making Stormcloaks think you were dead." She hooked her own digits into his pants and started tugging, needing a little more effort. "Besides, there's so little I wasn't going to need to tie things down while running." She giggled. "Poor Nordic women who have to bind to avoid creating a deadly situation."

Siltuzma kicked her breeches off, tipping forward and shoving Ondolemar to the ground. "Hmm. Your pants are around your knees, but we've both still got wrappings-"

He kissed the woman on top of him. "And you've managed to change the dynamics. We seem to be set back a little. I intended to unwrap you like the best welcome back present ever given. Looks like now I'll have to start all over with the kisses."

As he caressed her all over again, she hooked her feet into his pants and shoved them down off his feet. "Better?"

He grinned, letting out a small noise of pleasure. "Come here," he purred, placing his hands around her hips and dragging her rear up his torso. She tangled her hands in his hair, kissing him as much as possible until her spine couldn't bend anymore. She rose up, sitting on his chest.

"I fail to see how this gives you any return."

"If you haven't figure it out after all our previous couplings, I fear you may be a lost cause. Which would be strange, since you have sought my pleasure without a thought for yours."

She twitched suddenly in shock. He had distracted her with his words, and now he had practicality divested her of her under-wrappings. She curled her hands around his ears, forcing him to still as waves of pleasure rippled over him. "I do have that habit, don't I?"

"It is what make us such good lovers. Now please refrain from talking. The urge to reply is going to overcome me-" He tossed the fabric that had been wrapped around her regions to the side. "And my mouth is about to be very busy." He twisted, gently tossing Siltuzma off his chest, onto her back next to him, dislodging her hands from his hair. Before she could react to the loss of his warmth, he was lying in-between her legs, hands pressing into her thighs. "Looks like I do get to worship you, after all."

"Shut-"

She willingly cut off her words as he kissed the inside of her thigh, one long digit brushing about her clit. "No talking."

His kisses moved to her center as a thumb – she wasn't sure which and frankly after a few circles she didn't care – took to massaging the small bundle of nerves that sent her back arching in an attempt to move everything he was worshiping closer to everything he was doing.

With a smirk, Ondolemar inched nearer and languidly licked her folds.

"Oh screw this." She grabbed at his hair and dragged his face up towards hers.

"I intend to-"

She kissed him, possessively, as her hands pushed her up until she could rip at his own wrappings, taking every chance she could to brush against his hard bulge. "Forget our usual rhythm. I've been-" another rough kiss "-away from Markarth for weeks. We're now both-" She tossed his wrappings to the side "- dead so now we can be together and get regular sex. So this time-" Her hand wrapped around his length. "-I get you now and when I want you-"

One strong hand in the center of her chest sent her tumbling backwards, hands flying backwards to brace herself. As he crawled on top of her, he laughed to himself. "One of these days, we should try to do this without talking."

She reached up, and with her hands splayed across his face she kissed him. "Ah, but that would mess without our constant volley for dominance."

He chuckled, pressing kiss after kiss to her neck. Her hands wandered, one deciding to play with his hair and the corners of his ears, while the other reached down to position his length. As one of her legs reached to wrap around his waist along with her southern hand, Ondolemar smiled into her collarbone. With a quick burst of effort, she pulled him down. He moaned as he entered her.

"That never gets old."

"One would wonder why you took your sweet time getting there then."

"Perhaps I wanted to stretch things out and enjoy the moment," he countered, returning the attentions of his mouth to her neck. His hips began to move, pumping in time with the rhythm she was beginning to set.

"You take too long, sometimes."

He snorted. "Oh, bite me."

As she rose to meet his next thrust, her kiss on his collarbone included more teeth than he expected.

"I deserved that." In retaliation, he slipped a hand between them. Her head fell back onto the furs as he began to rub her off in time with his thrusts.

Her head spinning as pressure built, she pulled herself back to kissing his neck. Her leg thrown over his hips started rubbing along his own legs as she slowly lost the control over her movements. "Your power over me is ridiculous."

He thrust deliberately so as to stimulate her inner walls and almost lost himself. "Try being as attracted to you as I am and not showing one lick of that affection when you turn up unexpectedly in Markarth." He repeated the same motions until he could not longer handle it. As he bit his own lip and thrust once more, Siltuzma arched into him, her hands clenching into him as her channel contracted around him. She relaxed, and he bent down to rest his forehead on hers.

Through the afterglow of climax, she met his eyes. Disentangling her hand from his hair, she caressed his cheekbones. "There are so few pleasures in life as fine as your company." She kissed him, rising up to meet his last thrust and he was undone.

Spent, seed spilled, Ondolemar collapsed half atop Siltuzma.

"That was how I knew it was you, still, underneath all that Thalmor crap," she began when their flushed skin started to cool. "You said that, quietly so that Iaccarryon thought he was going mad, when I palmed you the old bard's amulet. You said our words, and every memory I had been holding at bay for almost a decade came crashing back. I almost had my way with you right there."

"Looking as you do, who could have blamed me for enthusiastically responding? It was nigh impossible to keep my hands off you until now."

"That you still remembered, still cared, and still thought to tell me what I'd always known but in different words-" She chuckled as he slipped away to roll towards the bed. Grabbing a blanket, he rolled back, throwing the warmth over them both.

"How did you find this place?"

"Eh, stumbled across the place in my wanderings. Poor man that lived here had died, leaving his unusual pets all alone. I buried him and when I wander by I make the effort to make this place still looked lived in. Finder's keeper's."

"Mmm. You were planning for this."

She pressed a sleepy kiss to his lips. "We're Altmer. We play the long game, run the long race."

"Planning all this time and you couldn't be bothered to put on a little extra clothes for me to tear off you."

"I've got to leave something for next time. Remember the long game. We cannot do everything we like in just the first round of reunion sex."

"First round?"

"Oh, curses, you caught me in my slip of the tongue."

He nestled his face into the curve of her neck. "I'll address your seemingly weakened skills of sarcasm later. I'm more working on a clever response playing off of slippery tongues."

"Take your time." She nudged a little closer. Siltuzma nearly drifted off into sleep happily cuddling before Ondolemar's question brought her back to wakefulness.

"What would our mothers think of us right now?"

"They knew."

He tensed momentarily. "What?"

The roll of her eyes echoed through her body. "Mothers have some sixth sense. I doubt our fathers were as observant, but then again we were very careful. But I know for certainty my mother talked my father into our match. She had to know we'd given in to young love. There were all the practical, boring reasons that everyone knew, but our relationship proved a motivation as well. With us married, there was no need to lower the bride price and lose reputation, since you and I just celebrated our wedding early – over twenty years ahead of the date by now."

"Oh. Alright."

"Plus she caught me sneaking in one night."

"You never said! Divines, I am so embarrassed and it was decades ago, by your count. I really wanted her respect."

He received an elbow to the ribs. "You had it. You didn't sex me and run out. Instead, you went to my dad three weeks after he reached out to yours, on your own initiative, not knowing what our parents were planning."

"I should have thanked them every day for your hand."

A sad sort of silence enveloped the small hut.

"So we were apart for ten years. It's been at least another five between your first day in Understone Keep and now. Impressive, your meteoric rise in such a short time. You truly are chosen by Auri-El." He paused, awkwardly. "Do you want to tell me about those first ten years?"

"What is there to say? You were there for the goodbye kiss, the promise in the dark, the running away. You know I was orphaned; you were the one who said I died with them. I kept to the fringes as much as possible. Then I'm grabbed as part of an ambush on Ulfric Stormcloak. I was lucky; Divines were on my side and seemed to actually desire my survival. Two years later, I walk into Understone Keep after a successful guild assignment and meet you."

Ondolemar drew her closer. "What aren't you saying?"

"Why are you making me say it?"

"Because I want to be let in."

She hummed quietly, chest vibrating with the low notes. "Perhaps I am not the only one who has absorbed some Nordic sensibilities."

"I can concede that. Markarth is a disgusting, dirty city, but the culture of men may have something to offer."

"I will tell you another day of what happened when a troubling branch of an already worrying family tree was snipped."

"And I will tell you of how far the Thalmor have fallen. I will never be Beautiful – we are not the Dunmer, to rise from ashes – but the act grows harder to play."

Humming a note of contentment, Siltuzma settled back on the road to sleep. "It is much less stressful to be legally dead."

The man next to her almost laughed aloud. "Says the Dovahkiin, Arch-Mage, Guildmaster, Champion of multiple Daedra, lover of an incredible mer-"

"I get it. I am busy."

Slowly, Ondolemar began to kiss her neck repeatedly, gradually picking up speed. "Maybe you could be busy now?"

"I did say 'first round,' didn't I?"

With a wolfish grin, Ondolemar rolled back on top of Siltuzma. "Maybe this time you could let me and my slippery tongue-"

She hungrily kissed him. "Earn it."

"With pleasure."


End file.
